He thought about that, then asked whether he was still allowed to love his father.

“Of course,” I said.

“You never need my permission to have feelings.”

He climbed into my lap and told me he’d seen a red truck on the way home.

The conversation moved on in the abrupt, merciful way children’s conversations often do.

I sat there long afterward thinking about how carefully love must sometimes speak.

Colton had continued the parenting arrangement under supervision and review as required.

Some visits were calm.